Toddlers
by C.A. Elenath
Summary: A very young Andros and Zhane share an idyllic afternoon. Pure frivolousness with heavy 1950s overhang :)


**Disclaimer**_: Okay, children__, who can guess what notice of non-ownership belongs here? Also, I didn't realize until after I finished writing this that the name of Andros' mother came from another fanfic (a subliminal memory?), _Crimson Dawn_, by Blue Flame, which I highly recommend. _

**Author's Note**_: This was written in a moment of pure frivolousness, so have fun. Rated for intensive fuzziness and shameless cuteness factor._

Toddlers:

A small red hat lay half buried in a corner of the sandbox, overturned brim flapping in the occasional warm breeze that blew through the yard. It was a brand new hat; the cloth was still bright with unfaded dye, and none of the threads were missing from the three white sheep embroidered across the front. It could have been flung there haphazardly by the wind, or perhaps by careless little hands. Odds were that the latter was the culprit.

On the other side of the sandbox, two toddlers sat facing one another, tiny black boots almost touching as they both concentrated intensely on their sandy endeavors. One had hair so blonde that it glinted white in afternoon sun. The other had alternating swirls of blonde and brown atop his small head. One was digging ever-deepening holes into the sand. The other was building multiple, lumpy somethings with the handy clumping power of water.

The two worked quietly and purposefully for several minutes, and then the blonde one stopped his shoveling and looked up

"Gaa," he gurgled and dug a fist into one of the other toddler's damp sand lumps. The precarious structure immediately toppled, tipping sideways and taking out a neighboring lump, which collapsed in on itself.

The toddler in red frowned, displeased that his laborious creations had been ruthlessly smashed prematurely. He dug his own hand into the ruins, withdrawing a tiny fistful of wet sand destined for retaliation against his friend in light gray. He paused however, distracted by the cool, squishy feeling of the sand between his small digits.

Meanwhile, the toddler in gray had dropped his plastic blue shovel and now had both hands buried deep in the damp sand, smiling toothlessly as he wiggled his fingers in the soft, squashy stuff.

Delighted giggles soon filled the yard as a messy sandball fight ensued.

Some tufts of sand went flying even without the help of little grabby hands. The boys' telekinetic energies were already manifesting, though without conscious effort. It wouldn't be for several years yet that the ability could even begin to be honed for useful—or mischievous—tasks.

Eventually the children ran out of wet sand to chuck at one another and went for fistfuls of dry sand instead. At this point, their mothers came hurrying for them, fearful of the grains irritating young eyes and causing unnecessary tears. They came from opposite ends of the large, grassy lot shared by both families, really two conjoined yards separated by a low wooden fence whose wide gate was always open anyway.

The two women exchanged smiles as they picked up their grubby tots. Smudgy faces and dirty hands. Fine baby hair that needed to be washed. Sandy diapers too, perhaps.

"Naptime."

Celeste drew a bath for her young son, intent on washing away both dirt and the afternoon heat before settling him down for a nap. The small boy refused the tub at first, fussing as he squirmed in his mother's arms. He wanted to play outside some more.

"Come on, Andros," Celeste coaxed her son gently as she lowered him into the waiting bath water. "I know you like taking your bath." As enticement, she telekinetically lifted some large, foam puzzle pieces from a shelf behind her and dumped them in the tub.

Interested now by the sparkling water and colorful floating objects, the boy slid into the bath without further protest. The cool temperature of the water must have been welcome because the toddler was immediately all smiles and splashed his chubby arms gleefully. A purple foam piece floated by his hand and he grabbed at it, but the motion only created an outward current that pushed the piece away. He did this with several other elusive pieces, until finally, one seemed to float into his hand despite the countercurrent. Celeste smiled as she felt a small pang of mother's pride at this small spurt of directed telekinesis. If the spurts continued, Andros might very well be moving objects purposefully with his mind before he'd even taken his first step.

The toddler was trying to reach another foam block now, but when that effort failed, the one he already had in hand went straight towards his mouth. He chewed on it contentedly as his mother squirted a blob of baby shampoo into her palm, worked it into a lather, and reached for his small head.

"Oh, Andros," she sighed when her hands discovered just how much sand had worked its way into his brown and blonde hair. "At least it matches what I found in your diaper."

The boy just let out a happy gurgle as he dropped the foam block in favor of the suds cascading off the top of his head. The white, bubbly stuff was far less elusive than the colorful puzzle pieces, and soon his chubby fists and forearms were piled high with suds. He did his best to fling it all into the air so he could watch it drizzle back down.

Celeste finished rinsing out her son's hair and moved on to scrub the dirty smudges from the rest of his body. The soft, sweet scent of baby soap perfumed the bathroom as she worked.

"There," she said when her son was satisfactorily clean, and enfolded him in a fluffy white towel.

"Daa," he burbled, pulling a fold of the towel into his mouth. Celeste kissed his crown of dual-toned fuzz, which at the moment had been darkened by the water until it was almost all brown. She finished drying him on the way to the nursery.

Meanwhile, in the other house, Leanor gave her own son a less thorough bath and saved her energies for the infinitely more difficult task of settling him down for a nap.

"Now Zhane…are you going to go quietly this time," she asked the blonde-headed child as she laid him down on the changing table, "or am I going to have to coax, threaten, and wrestle you down for your nap today?"

The boy flailed his chubby legs with a cheerful laugh—an ominous sign. His mother merely smiled as she grasped his ankles gently in one hand and powdered his bottom with the other. When she had a clean diaper on him, she leaned forward and blew raspberries against his stomach. The boy giggled and squirmed.

Leanor dressed her son in a clean pair of coveralls but left his feet bare due to the warm weather. The little boy had an affinity for the outdoors and often slept better when he was outside rather than in his crib in the bedroom. As a result, a playpen had been permanently set up on the back patio where Zhane could play and nap safely without being exposed to direct sunlight.

Leanor laid the blonde child down on the spaceship-print mattress and handed him a bottle, kissing his forehead as she did so. "Let's see how much trouble you give me in, oh, five minutes."

She moved towards the workstation at the other end of the patio, intending on continuing her research when, sure enough, there came the squeaks and gurgles of an active child from the playpen. She turned around in her chair to see Zhane tottering on unsteady legs, tiny hands grasping the top edge of the pen to keep his balance. The finished bottle lay on its side at his feet.

"Looks like it's wrestling today," Leanor sighed as she walked over the playpen, shaking a mock-stern finger at her son. Zhane grabbed it as she reached for him and tried to nibble on it. She picked him up and swung him around, provoking a delighted shriek from the toddler. He giggled and squealed as she tossed him in the air repeatedly, small toothless mouth agape and drizzling a bit of happy drool.

Eventually the antics subsided, and Leanor held her son close, cradling his bright head against her shoulder as she hummed and rocked him gently to and fro. Zhane stuck a thumb in his mouth and closed his eyes, contentedly sucking on the tiny digit.

Leanor didn't dare stop her rocking until she felt sure her son was truly asleep. She very, very carefully set him back down in the playpen, placing a hand on his stomach and continuing to rock him for a few more minutes. When she lifted her hand, she waited another minute before quietly creeping away.

_Now to get some work done,_ she thought as she settled down again at the workstation. The day's heat made it difficult to concentrate on any sort of work, but she was determined to get through this stack of electronic journals before…

"_Waaaaaaaaaaaah!"_

"Too late," Leanor murmured in exasperation, leaving the workstation once more for the playpen.

"What is it, sweetheart?" She knelt beside the pen and placed her hand on his middle again, attempting to coo and rock her son back to sleep. "You've already been bathed, changed, and fed. And look, it's such a nice day out for a nap too."

The boy's fussing did not subside at her coddling and Leanor let out a soft sigh. There was no conceivable reason she could think of for her son's upset wailing. Normally, if Zhane didn't want to take his nap, he just sat up and amused himself with whatever toys were lying in the pen. Today, however, nothing seemed to appease him.

_Looks like another workless day for me,_ Leanor thought wryly as she tried further to placate her noisy baby.

"Need some help?"

Leanor looked up and saw Celeste standing on the steps to the patio, cradling a drowsy but not quite asleep Andros in her arms. The little boy's hazel eyes were wet and undoubtedly sleepy. He rubbed them repeatedly with a fist even as he let out a soft, plaintive cry.

Leanor smiled as she nodded in reply, recognizing what it was Celeste had in mind. It was a curious solution to their problem, one discovered not that long ago but that always seemed to work.

Celeste came over and laid Andros down in the pen beside Zhane, draping his baby blanket across his middle. Zhane was immediately pacified, turning over on his side to look at his friend, but Andros was still discontented. He let out another complaining cry as he pulled the blanket from his stomach up over his head and continued to fuss from beneath it. Unlike Zhane, he did not like sleeping in such a bright and open environment.

"Children," Celeste chided in mock exasperation as she helped Leanor unfold the top covering to the playpen. The dome-shaped cap would convert the pen from open arena to a roofed tent with mesh walls, the perfect compromise for their toddlers' differing preferences in sleeping environments.

"We spoil them," said Leanor, watching her son squirm into a more comfortable position on the mattress.

"Just a little," Celeste agreed, lifting up a flap of the playpen covering. She reached in and pulled the blanket off of her son's face so he wouldn't suffocate. By then, Andros had stopped fussing. "It's just so effective at curing Cranky Baby Syndrome."

Leanor laughed. "True."

The two women stood and watched their children for a while, whom were finally settled down and peacefully napping. One contentedly sucked his thumb as he slept, the other nibbled on a corner of blanket.


End file.
